Dad turned off the news. "Sarah," he said seriously. "This election's too important. Go to the school tomorrow and pretend you're ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thegeekgene." He paused, nodded, and said decisively, "The ends justify the means!"
"...No."
"Why not?!"
"I'm not committing a felony, Dad." Dad engages his children in absurd arguments frequently. I think he considers it some sort of training.
"Sarah, if Conway loses by one vote -"
"He will not lose by one vote, he will lose by a lot of votes. Because he is an idiot."
"Just go in! Dress up like her! You look alike!" (Untrue.) "No, why is it wrong!? There's nothing immoral about it -"
"There is something illegal about it. It is a federal crime."
"Yeah, well - no! Well, yeah, but so is slavery, and - I, uh -"
The narrative had begun to lose its focus. Mom pointed out, "I think he's getting a little hysterical at this point, dear." Hysterical, Dad insisted, "The ends justify the means, Sarah! How much do I have to pay you!?"
The argument abated while we had dinner. Then a minute ago, Dad said, "Actually, you don't go to the school, you go to the courthouse." Exasperated noises attended. Offended by this dismissal of his master plan, he pushed off the cat who was sitting on him. "It'll be fine! It's only illegal if you get caught!"
"They would know who I am. I went to pick up takeout at Bobby Jo's for lunch today, and they didn't even have to ask my name."
Silence, as Dad reflected on the reality that this was entirely his fault. If only he had not sued everyone in town at least twice! He muttered, "You can still do it."
-
In unrelated news, my costume was The Other Kind Of Tea Party, which consisted of a black suit, a ruffly poet shirt, a pocket watch, a bowler hat, a necklace from this shop, and my highschool wireframe glasses instead of my post-highschool thick plastic hipster ones. (This is a pulled-out-of-my-closet costume; I assume that all civilized people have in their closets a bowler hat, pocket watch, and ruffly poet shirt.) I didn't actually have a teacup, because I didn't put any of my skill points in Dexterity - they're all in Blogging - and I would have broken it.
In a restaurant, I saw a little girl bouncing around in her booth while her mother talked on the phone. I made a sort of "down" gesture at her and smiled at her. As might be expected, she ducked behind the seat back, then popped immediately back up. As I was walking away, I heard her asking, "Who was that guy?"
It should be said that I am noticeably biologically female, or anyway, I have these two protuberances. Whatever confusion the hirsutism and the shape of my face might cause is generally resolved thereby. So this was a new experience for me! I guess the suit jacket's too big.
thegeekgene." He paused, nodded, and said decisively, "The ends justify the means!""...No."
"Why not?!"
"I'm not committing a felony, Dad." Dad engages his children in absurd arguments frequently. I think he considers it some sort of training.
"Sarah, if Conway loses by one vote -"
"He will not lose by one vote, he will lose by a lot of votes. Because he is an idiot."
"Just go in! Dress up like her! You look alike!" (Untrue.) "No, why is it wrong!? There's nothing immoral about it -"
"There is something illegal about it. It is a federal crime."
"Yeah, well - no! Well, yeah, but so is slavery, and - I, uh -"
The narrative had begun to lose its focus. Mom pointed out, "I think he's getting a little hysterical at this point, dear." Hysterical, Dad insisted, "The ends justify the means, Sarah! How much do I have to pay you!?"
The argument abated while we had dinner. Then a minute ago, Dad said, "Actually, you don't go to the school, you go to the courthouse." Exasperated noises attended. Offended by this dismissal of his master plan, he pushed off the cat who was sitting on him. "It'll be fine! It's only illegal if you get caught!"
"They would know who I am. I went to pick up takeout at Bobby Jo's for lunch today, and they didn't even have to ask my name."
Silence, as Dad reflected on the reality that this was entirely his fault. If only he had not sued everyone in town at least twice! He muttered, "You can still do it."
-
In unrelated news, my costume was The Other Kind Of Tea Party, which consisted of a black suit, a ruffly poet shirt, a pocket watch, a bowler hat, a necklace from this shop, and my highschool wireframe glasses instead of my post-highschool thick plastic hipster ones. (This is a pulled-out-of-my-closet costume; I assume that all civilized people have in their closets a bowler hat, pocket watch, and ruffly poet shirt.) I didn't actually have a teacup, because I didn't put any of my skill points in Dexterity - they're all in Blogging - and I would have broken it.
In a restaurant, I saw a little girl bouncing around in her booth while her mother talked on the phone. I made a sort of "down" gesture at her and smiled at her. As might be expected, she ducked behind the seat back, then popped immediately back up. As I was walking away, I heard her asking, "Who was that guy?"
It should be said that I am noticeably biologically female, or anyway, I have these two protuberances. Whatever confusion the hirsutism and the shape of my face might cause is generally resolved thereby. So this was a new experience for me! I guess the suit jacket's too big.
